


Au Début

by orphan_account



Series: Teacher Hans and Student Anna [4]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Teacher-Student Relationship, for realsies this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hans maintained an orderly classroom. Until, of course, they'd sent him a Princess."</p>
<p>This is the first (chronologically) installment of the Teacher Hans/Student Anna Verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Au Début

            Hans maintained an orderly classroom. Students filed in, they scribbled whatever useless garbage that filled their minds while he enlightened them on the dire situation of global politics, they sometimes raised their hands and addressed him as Professor Koningh _only_ , they left. He got his fair share of overeager college students, with their breasts hanging out and their pants all but around their ankles, but they never got closer than on the other side of his desk, begging for a better grade. He knew how to handle them.

            Until, of course, they’d sent him a Princess—the Princess of Norway, majoring in “cultural studies” in the United States, probably getting her youthful indiscretions done on a separate continent before returning home and getting married, or whatever she had waiting for her. They, the disembodied higher ups, had dropped her into his class two years too early, and he’d groaned at the thought of wasting his precious time tutoring a spoiled brat because the sophomore polsci classes were full.

            That had been his first surprise: she did suspiciously well in his class, frequently tackling his infamous trick questions in heavily accented English, acing all his ridiculous quizzes. Initially, he’d suspected her entourage—two heavyset men in suits who followed her literally everywhere—of slipping her answers, but, he was ashamed to admit, he knew she couldn’t have cheated. Truthfully, his eyes never strayed far from her, for one reason or another. She was beautiful, obviously, but she was also _enchanted_ , with her copper braids and tight little outfits and her unwitting optimism. She seemed to him a melody, a string of fragile notes wrapped in a clear chirp. Some part of him yearned to break her.

            But, he was Professor Koningh. He was a young teacher from a prominent family, and even an ocean away from his twelve brothers and ailing father, his conduct was carefully watched. To pursue a student—to stoop to such a ridiculous cliché—would spell professional disaster. It was better to watch from afar, to smile every time he read one of her papers, to pick on her every time she raised her hand, to disagree with her heartily enough to spark a fun little debate—she thought capitalism allowed for equal opportunity, _seriously_ —than to move any further.

            Still, as the semester wore on and her barely-appropriate shorts and rompers were replaced by thick scarves and woolen tights, Hans delighted more and more in her attention. She arrived early nearly every day, and chatted with him in Dutch for a few minutes—she’d seen his name card and gotten overenthusiastic about using their mother tongue—before prancing to her seat in the front row. She batted her eyelashes at him and cleanly dismantled his admittedly shaky feminist theory. She provided a special kind of entertainment—distracted him to the extent where his affection for her crept up on him, until one day, Anna pushed him too far.

            Class had started innocently enough. Same students filed in and took their seats. Anna arrived with the regular crowd, which was disappointing, but not tragic. He immediately took his place at his podium and started up the projector; the students were to watch several speeches they’d been assigned to annotate the night before, and chatter among themselves about them while he made his way through the inevitable stack of papers that came at the end of every term.

            It’d all gone to plan, for about twenty minutes, until he looked up from his work, his eyes immediately drawn to Anna, and found her seat empty. Her entourage hovered by the door, but she was gone. He frowned, focused harder on her seat—it was _her_ seat, she’d always sat there, never varied—until he spotted her higher in the stands, surrounded by a couple of American girls. Worse, they were _those_ girls, the ones who swarmed his desk during office hours and dropped their purses so they could bend over in front of him and showcase their unimaginative underwear—

            He watched helplessly as Anna smiled at them and laid a dainty hand on their arms, laughed at their inane jokes, allowed them to scoot closer and closer. Was he going insane, or was one girl—Veronica, he thought—actually staring at Anna’s lips, crowding into her space and sliding a hand up her thigh—and Anna didn’t even care, just kept beaming. Veronica’s painted nails reached Anna’s skirt—Anna took her wrist and _slid it further up_ —

            Hans was crazy. He was literally hallucinating. He might have poured his coffee from the Hallucinogenic Studies pot instead of his own. In all his months—weeks—with Anna, she’d never so much as looked at another student, and she’d certainly never mentioned dating anybody in their private little conversations. He was horrified at the storm broiling inside him, bitter regret and jealousy and _lust_ , for a _student_ , as Veronica played with one of Anna’s braids, wrapped it around her knuckles and gave a little tug, the way he’d always wanted to—

            There wasn’t anything he could do about it, not during class. If Anna wanted to waste time with foreign girls who would fuck her and leave her, then that was her business. He’d just—sit here. And do nothing. Oh, fuck.

            He spent the next forty minutes in agony, torn between cutting class early and dragging Anna into his office and doing terrible, _terrible_ things, or quitting his job that second and never looking back. Still, Anna never looked at him once, gazing into Veronica’s stupid cornflower blue eyes, what was it with Americans and that color?

            The bell rang before he knew it, and he was still so conflicted, and oh, shit, Anna had gotten on her little kitten heels and was walking up to him, what could he even say?

            “Hans, you look flushed.” She pouted at him and patted his cheek. His skin stung where she touched him, fleeting and addictive. He hardly noticed she’d used his given name.

            “I—I—It’s this ridiculous building, it’s either freezing or burning—”

            She tsked and nodded understandingly. Her lips were wet with cherry gloss, and what was he supposed to do about that? She turned to her entourage, still haunting the door, and waved them off until they retreated into the hallway. He could swear the temperature increased by ten degrees.

            “We’ll have to fix that,” she purred. “I can’t have my future boyfriend burning up in here every day.”

            “I—What?”

            She gazed at him, and her sexy, overconfident façade dissolved into a more natural, demure look. “Do you wanna get lunch sometime? With me. I. Yeah.”

            Without thinking, he blurted, “You’re my _student_ , you’re a princess! I can’t.” He winced as her face fell, and then reformed into a determined pout. Before he could react, she grabbed him by the tie, yanked him up, and with surprising strength, pressed him against the wall.

            “If you don’t want this,” she whispered, “tell me. But trust me—I want it.”

            She kissed him. She was so _sweet_ , even with her lips jammed against his and his glasses jostled—he could taste her peppermint lip gloss, could feel her tongue slipping between his teeth, drawing him out of his stupor to _finally_ kiss her back, consequences be damned—

            Just when he brought his hands up to cradle her cheeks, he gasped as Anna pawed at his pants, deftly unbuckling his trousers and shoving them down, before reaching into his boxers and taking him in her tight, slick hand—oh, God, did she _plan_ this?—did she know how many times this scenario had played out in his mind, could she even guess?

            He nearly bit her tongue when she started jacking him, loose at the base and then tighter and tighter as she approached the head, driving him absolutely crazy. Throwing caution to the wind, he moaned into her kiss, wrapped his arms around her shoulders to pull her tighter, closer, one hand sneaking round the back of her head to tug on her braid, the way he’d always wanted. She let out a shriek of surprise at the pull, and he almost regretted it before she kissed him with as much fervor as ever, jacked him harder, pushed him closer to the edge—she took his lower lip between her teeth and _bit_ and he saw stars, he swore he did, as he came all over her hand.

            A few moments of silence. Panting on his end, as Anna snatched the box of tissues from his desk and wiped her hands clean. He shivered when she returned to him, stroked his chest and looked up at him, leaving him no choice but to meet her eye. He could feel a drop of blood crawling from his lip to his chin.

            “So,” he started, and cringed. “I don’t. I. Um.”

            She just beamed up at him. “Do you want to go to lunch?”

            “R—Right now?”

            “Sure.”

            “I—” He was so fucking sick of stuttering, what was he, a high schooler on his first date? He straightened, immediately tucked his cock back into his boxers, and blushed at the reminder of what they’d just done. He gave her a small smile and gently took her hand.

            “I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Au Début" is French for "in the beginning", because I'm creative.
> 
> This sat in my drafts for a long time because I'm a wimp and I finally decided to finish it, so, here it is.


End file.
